A Little Extra Preperation
by NoahBody
Summary: It isn't fair to bring Harry up a warrior, but it also isn't fair to bring him up a sacrificial lamb. Severus asserts that Harry ought to be trained to properly defeat Voldemort, when Dumbledore disagrees, he decides to take things into his own hands. AU
1. Chapter 1: Ignored Insistence

A/N: This is my first "Plotted" fanfiction, I have no idea if there will be pairings yet, there may be slash in the future, so it that squicks you, you might want to bail now. Please let me know if you have directional ideas or feedback, as this is my first attempt at fanfiction in a very long time. Cheers.

Summary: It isn't fair to bring Harry up a warrior, but it also isn't fair to bring him up a sacrificial lamb. Severus asserts that Harry ought to be trained to properly defeat Voldemort, when Dumbledore disagrees, he decides to take things into his own hands. Sort of Severtus-ish, slightly OOC Snape, Manipulative!Dumbledore, Powerfull!Smart!Harry

* * *

"Headmaster, do you not think it's best to train the boy, if he is to defeat Voldemort?" Severus asserted, for what felt like the hundredth time. He paced the old man's office, quite certain that at this rate he would wear a hole in the plushy carpet the headmaster was so fond of.

"He must have a normal upbringing; it isn't fair to bring him up a warrior." Dumbledore replied. The twinkle in his eyes, which peered at Severus over steepled fingers, seemed to be at half power today, as if he couldn't decide whether he ought to look venerable for the occasion of once more explaining to his inferior why he ought to let Harry Potter grow up a normal child.

"It also isn't fair to bring him up a sacrificial lamb." Severus spat. "We are leading him to the slaughter if we allow him a 'normal childhood', Headmaster, surely you can see that! Lily," And here he paused and took a breath, "And Potter did not die so that Harry could be violently murdered a few years later."

"Severus, you can't understand how damaging it would be to him, to raise him up his whole life just to kill someone, it isn't fair to him." The Headmaster said, seriously.

"It isn't fair to leave him clueless!"

"He's just a child, is it not the responsibility of adults to handle their knowledge of the world in a reasonable manner? You have been a teacher long enough to understand that, surely, Severus."

"_You _are not the adult who has the power to make that decision, Albus."

"Severus, you know very well the boy has no one else…"

"Just because the God parent is father appointed isn't available doesn't mean he has no one, Albus." Severus stalked to the door, flinging it open with a rage even Albus had not seen from him in a long time. "He is Lily's flesh and blood, and she would have wanted, could Black not fulfill his duties, me to do so." Severus growled, and he slammed the door behind him with a slightly foreboding THUMP.

Small patches of yellow light dotted the ground, and the little boy delighted in moving his hand about to catch different patches of light filtering in through the leaves above his head. The mulch of the garden pressed into his back, but he hardly noticed, enjoying being outside as he was.

It was a cool spring day, and Harry Potter was currently hiding under the bushes in the front garden of number 4 Private Drive. It was easiest, to finish his chores in the early morning and then hide out pretending to be occupied. Even at five years old Harry had figured out as much. Especially on mornings like these, it was quite pleasant to lie dozily under the bushes and make up for the sleep he had missed because of his 5 AM wakeup call to make breakfast for Uncle Vernon before work. Not that Harry minded making breakfast; he only wished that once in a while someone would make breakfast for him, the way aunt Petunia lovingly prepared Dudley's breakfast.

He had asked once, why he didn't get breakfast, when he had been three and hadn't understood rule number one "Don't ask questions". His aunt had replied by telling him that he was bad, and locking him in his cupboard for three days, only letting him out for chores and the bathroom.

Since then Harry had only allowed himself his quiet musings whilst laying alone, usually in the garden or his cupboard, the two places that seemed to be his own in the Dursley house, despite the fact that the garden wasn't really his. Today, however, his quiet contemplations were broken up when a large shadow cut off the light he had been gleefully playing with. Harry froze, unsure if it was a cloud or Aunt Petunia out to check his work. When the shadow moved in a very un-cloud like, and decidedly human, way, Harry tried to sink further under the hydrangeas, only to find himself face to face with a black-dress-shoe-clad foot.

He looked up slowly, faced with the owner of the foot through the leaves. He could see the face rather clearly and suddenly became aware of just how useless his hiding place was. The man was clearly scary; he had pale skin, dark lank hair, and a deep from. He was so tall that Harry felt sure he was a giant (though in fact he was only tall in comparison to the other adults the young boy new at the time), and his black eyes seemed to stare into Harry's soul when he met them, though he didn't quite know what that meant yet.

"Come out from there, boy, and let me have a better look at you." The man said, his voice deeper than any Harry had ever heard, and that included the announcer men he could sometimes hear through his cupboard door on the telly.

Harry reluctantly crawled out of his hiding place, standing in the grass to brush himself off, before walking, equally reluctantly, onto the front path. The man regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, neither of which were anything new to Harry, before reaching towards his face. Harry flinched slightly, but new better than to pull away. In his life, you allowed adults to do what they pleased and remained silent about it. The man brushed his bangs away from his face, his touch was so light that Harry barely felt it, not like his uncle, who was always rough, or his aunt, how did everything so sharply that it pained the boy.

"You are Harry Potter, then." It was not a question, but Harry nodded anyway.

"Yes sir." He said meekly. "Can I help you?" He asked, reverting to the response he had been taught to give when addressed.

"In time, perhaps, but right now I am here to help you."


	2. Chapter 2: Reducing Freakishness

A/N: I had no intention of getting this out so fast, but the overwhelmingly huge and fast response to this story made me decide to release a second chapter today, because I'll be too busy most likely in the upcoming week. As with the last chapter, don't be afraid to give some feedback; if it's terrible, tell me! If it's great, TELL ME! And thanks so much everyone who's favorite or reviewed so far!

* * *

Chapter 2 Reducing Freakishness

"Help me, sir?" Harry asked, bewildered. "But, I don't need help." Suddenly, his green eyes grew large, "Are you from child protective services? Are you here to take me to an orphanage? Did aunt Marge call you?" The child asked, halfway between relief and panic.

Severus merely returned his panic with a slightly confused look.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," He replied coolly, "But I can assure you that I am not from child protective services, nor was I called by anyone named Marge."

Harry couldn't decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. Aunt Marge had made orphanages sound horrible, but then again, the Dursley's house could've been better. He'd seen the way some of Dudley's friends lived, he knew his life wasn't exactly normal, or desirable. But he would probably be just as much of a freak anywhere else, he reasoned to himself.

"Why on earth would someone put you in an orphanage?" Severus frowned, suddenly eyeing Harry much more closely, up and down examining his face, leaning forward almost imperceptibly to do so. "Look me in the eye, boy," Harry complied reluctantly, but quickly.

The small boy once again had the impression that this man was peering into his soul, he wasn't sure that he liked it one bit.

"Are you mistreated, here?" The man asked, still gazing inside of him.

Harry shrugged, "They're nicer to Dudley, but it's okay." He said, softly.

The man finally broke eye contact, and nodded. "I need to speak to Petunia, is she at home?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Fetch her for me." Severus urged.

"May I… tell her who's calling?" Harry asked, tentatively.

"An old friend."

* * *

Severus had very little trouble, after calming Petunia down from the shock of seeing a wizard in her surgically clean kitchen, in convincing her to part with Harry for a few hours every day. She wanted nothing to do with the boy and his "freakishness" and it only took Severus explaining that he could stop Harry's odd outbursts of accidental magic around the house.

"Vernon must never know what is happening." She said, suddenly, sounding a tad frightened. "He would be furious. He doesn't want the family exposed to that. And neither do I for that matter."

"Petunia, I can assure you he will never know. I am not here to intervene on your parenting methods…"

"Guardianship."

"Whatever, although they could use some work," Severus paused.

Petunia pursed her lips.

"I am here to train the boy. It is simpler with your consent, but I don't need it." He said, imperiously.

Petunia seethed, but having already agreed, and knowing the power this black clothed man wielded, she knew that she must conceded to his wishes.

"Just let the boy finish his chores before you whisk him off."

Harry fled quickly from his position at the doorframe as the adults stopped talking. He couldn't let them know he was listening. In a flash he was back outside, weeding the garden.

"Boy," He heard his aunt call.

He rushed back inside.

"Boy," She began, once he presented himself in front of her. "This man is Mister…"

"Professor." The man corrected.

Petunia glared.

"Professor Snape," She said. "He will be… tutoring you. Your will be telling your uncle that he is getting rid of your freakishness, do you understand?" She asked, menacingly.

Harry nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure he did. This man was going to get rid of his freakishness? That was how he was to help him? Harry had never thought that his aunt and uncle were right about him being a freak, was there really a way for him to become normal?

"Will it… hurt?" He asked.

The man regarded him with a sneer for a moment, "No, Mr. Potter, it will not hurt. Unless you are bad at it."

"Bad at it?" Was it possible to be bad at not being a freak?

"Yes. And after I'm done with you, you won't be."

* * *

Harry's first lesson was to be the next day, Petunia insisted that she had to talk things over with Vernon. Harry was sent away while the adults talked for a few more minutes, and when he was called in to help prepare supper, the mysterious man seemed to have up and vanished without a trace.

Despite lesson one, don't ask questions, Harry couldn't help but try to ask his aunt exactly what the man was talking about, what sort of lessons was he to learn? But she wouldn't say a word, snapping at him that if he had time to talk he had time to set the table.

All talk was put to a definitive end when Vernon came home from work, Harry was sent to his cupboard while the family ate, he would be allowed to eat after, before he cleaned up the kitchen.

* * *

The following afternoon after Harry finished his chores, he was sent straight to his cupboard to clean up.

"The Professor left you a pair of clothes; he said that you are to wear them today." Petunia said.

Harry wasn't sure what to expect, he'd never had clothes all his own before. He entered his cupboard and looked around for the clothes, finding a brown paper wrapped package on his bed. As he began to unwrap it, he was surprised to feel his hands shaking a little bit, possibly from excitement.

He finally pulled the package open, and as he pulled out the cloth he was instantly disappointed. Inside the dress was what appeared to be a long black dress. Just the sight of the article, with the thought in mind that he might have to wear it, was enough to make Harry's face burn. Did all of the people who were learning not to be freaks have to wear dresses? The man yesterday hadn't worn a dress, but maybe that was because he was a teacher?

"Boy, are you dressed?" Aunt Petunia called.

Harry hastily shucked his clothes, and, with one last moment of reluctance, pulled the dress over his head. He hurried out of his cupboard and to Aunt Petunia, who was standing in the hall with a look of disdain.

"Well, it looks as if they fit." Said a deep voice. Harry turned, to find the man from yesterday standing at the front door.

"Sir… I'm sorry to ask questions but… Why do I have to wear a dress?" Harry asked, face burning. Dudley would tease him so badly if he saw him.

"That isn't a dress, boy," Snap addressed him angrily, "They are wizard's robes, such as I am wearing."

Indeed, today the man was dressed in a black dress, similar to the one Harry had on.

"They're… what, sir?" Harry asked.

"I will explain everything later, right now, we're leaving. Out the back now, hurry up."

Harry hurried up, and soon found himself in the small ally between the Dursley's house and Mrs. Figg's. The man grabbed his elbow, pulling him to a halt.

"Hold very still."

Harry did so. Suddenly, he felt like Dudley was sitting on his chest, the world went black and he couldn't feel anything except for the horrible squeezing pressure. What was going on, was the man killing him? Had he already failed at not being a freak? He tried to whimper, to cry out, but he couldn't, nothing came out of his lungs just as if nothing would go into them!

And as suddenly as it had begun it was over. Harry gasped for breath, the world had re-materialized, and the elephant on his chest was gone. It took Harry several minutes to catch his breath. Professor Snape was holding him by his arm; otherwise, Harry was certain he would have fallen to the ground by now.

As Harry regained his breath, he also got his bearings. They were no longer in the alleyway, in fact, they were somewhere Harry had never been. The room was large, and the walls lined with books. There appeared to be no doors or windows, and the only furniture apart from the built in bookshelves were two high backed chairs, a desk, and a large pole baring candles.

"Where… where are we?" Harry asked, softly. Then he flinched, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask a question!" He said, hastily.

"Whatever are you talking about?" The man asked him, irritably, "Whoever said you couldn't ask questions?"

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't like questions." Harry whispered.

"Well, that's ridiculously stupid." Snape growled, "What kind of idiot muggles are they anyway? Don't like questions, preposterous." He stormed.

Harry shrank away from him as much as he could with the man still tightly gripping his arm.

"I'm sorry sir." He squeaked, as the man raged. Severus appeared to deflate several inches.

"It's not your fault." He grunted, "I happen to like questions. Ask anything you want." He said, his tone almost a bit repentant, something Harry had never heard from an adult addressing him.

"Well… Can I really?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I do not say things I do not mean, child."

"I'm sorry sir." Harry murmured.

"And for the love of Merlin stop apologizing!"

* * *

Severus was forced by the end of this session to admit that Harry was not what he had been expecting. He had been expecting an arrogant, mini-version of James Potter, and was instead faced with a scared and love starved child, who reminded him more of himself at that age than anything. The only difference, was that the boy had grown up deprived of knowledge of the wizarding world.

"_Aunt Petinua said you're going to fix my freakishness, is that true?" Harry had asked _

"_Freakishness? Whatever are you talking about?" _

"_You know, how things happen sometimes when I'm upset… how my parents were." _

Severus had scared the child again, exploding how Lily was NOT a freak, was nothing LIKE a freak, but a wonderful, powerful, incredible witch!

It hadn't taken a lot of convincing, even for a brainwashed child, to convince a five year old of the reality of magic. What Severus suspected would take time, was teaching him when he was starting from a base of zero. He decided that, despite his initial plans to take Harry to Diagon ally and get him a wand and some basic equipment, he should perhaps wait until he had learned some other things, muggle things as well.

The thought that Harry might not yet be able to read or write had not occurred to Severus, who had been reading and writing since the age of three. But the boy hadn't had a nurturing mother like Severus had. No one had told him how important these skills were, and it was going to be to Severus to teach him. He groaned, what was he getting himself into?


	3. Chapter 3:The Wand Chooses the Wizard

A/N: I felt I should warn you about two things.

1. This chapter is not my favorite, but I have to set this stuff up. I wrote this quickly, and so far I am un-beta'd, if you have feedback PLEASE tell me!

2. This story WILL contain OC's, though most of them will be unimportant. I can assure you there will be no random Mary Sues showing up as Harry's long lost sister, but I cannot promise that you won't dislike some of my male characters.

Again, I ask for your feedback, because it WILL help shape the story. Much love to you all

* * *

Harry wasn't sure what reading was going to have to do with becoming a wizard, as professor Snape was training him to do. The professor explained, impatiently, that wizards have textbooks too, just like muggle school children, and they still had to read them, and write essays.

"Besides, reading is an important life skill, Mr. Potter, and one you would do well to hone."

Harry decided not to argue as the man set to teaching him his ABC's and what sounds the letters made.

* * *

When school started for Dudley, Harry was expected to go too. But Professor Snape had slightly different ideas than aunt Petunia. Harry was not to attend the local public school; he was expected to go to a very exclusive private school, which professor Snape said would suit Harry better. He had to go through a series of tests, which the older man took him to, where they quizzed him on the ABC'S, and the reading that Severus had taught him. He was suddenly glad he'd learned these things, Harry had never had a test before, and he was eager to pass.

Having been taught all that he had during the summer, Harry passed each test, his smile growing broader each result he heard. The test proctor was a plump older woman, and very sweet, praising Harry heavily for his intelligence.

When Harry eagerly told his new mentor about his results, the man nodded, but praised him in his own way, saying, "It's what I expected of you." And then reminding him that there would be more tests to come as he became a student there.

Under the guise of Harry's father, Snape set up the boy's enrollment, and chose his classes for the year (Harry hadn't known that children his age even could choose classes, Dudley didn't get to). He was to take English, math, history, and basic science, as were the basics, and Harry didn't understand the distinctions between which math and sciences he was taking yet; he would also learn Latin, which professor Snape said would be invaluable as a wizard.

After all was said and done, Harry had to wait a whole week for school to start.

"Do I have to wait?" Harry asked. "I want to start now!"

The professor cracked one of his very rare smiles, "Yes, mister Potter, you have to wait. But you will continue learning with me until school starts. I have another field trip planned for tomorrow, be sure to wear your robes."

Harry nodded, he had gotten used to the things over the past couple of weeks, wearing them each time that he met with the professor, barring today, when he had been given a new set of muggle clothes to wear. They were the nicest Harry had even owned, and he still couldn't quite figure out with the professor wanted to give him things, but despite the man saying he loved questions (and proving it by always answering them) Harry had decided not to ask.

* * *

The next day Harry was up extra early, Professor Snape had told him that he would be around in the early morning to fetch him, so Harry wanted to try to get most of his chores done early. He was surprised to leave his cupboard to find Aunt Petunia cooking breakfast.

"_He_ will be here in half an hour, boy, go take a shower and make yourself presentable." She snapped when she saw him. His aunt always said the professor's name with an odd mixture of hatred and admiration that Harry couldn't quite figure out. He was sure that she didn't like the man because he was a freak—wizard like Harry, but she seemed to respect him in a way Harry couldn't quite figure out.

"Severus, you're early." Harry heard his aunt say downstairs, as he was toweling off his hair.

"I forgot that I would have to do a little more preparation before taking Harry to Diagon Ally, is he ready?" The man asked.

"He's in the shower I think." Petunia replied. There were a few moments of silence, before he heard his aunt's voice, somewhat strained, offer Professor Snape coffee.

Harry didn't hear the man's response, but when he finally made his way into the kitchen Snape was sitting at the table, having a cup, and Aunt Petunia was sitting across from him. It was an odd tableau, both of them were smiling, Aunt Petunia was even laughing a bit, neither was frowning nor glaring at the other, Petunia wasn't screaming or anything. They looked, Harry thought, a bit like old friends, though Harry was sure that couldn't be possible.

"Ah, there you are." The professor said, spotting him standing in the doorway. He stood up, setting down his coffee. "Come here." He ordered, digging in his pockets.

Harry approached him, then stood patiently in front of him while the man retrieved the item. The little tube looked a bit like Aunt Petunia's lipstick, and when opened it was the same shape, but skin tone.

"Stand still." Snape ordered him. He brushed back Harry's bangs, and proceeded to rub the stuff on Harry's scar, it tingled for a second, before Snape let Harry's bangs fall back into his face.

"There, that'll do." He said

"What was that, professor?" Harry asked.

"Concealer."

"Oh, Lily used to have a tube just like that," Petunia exclaimed. "Blended right in with her face, she never let me use it."

Severus shrugged and handed her the tube, "Here, enjoy. I only needed it today, I can't think of anything else I would use women's cosmetics for."

"Oh I couldn't, Vernon wouldn't like it." Petunia said, trying to hand the tube back.

"Nonsense, he'll never know." Snape replied refusing the tube. "All right Mister Potter, let's get moving."

Harry went out back as always, and a few moments later, after the squeezing sensation that Professor Snape called apparrating, Harry found himself standing in a small pub.

Harry looked around curiously at the other patrons of the bar, they were all wearing robes similar to the ones he and Snape wore, a few of them even wore black pointed hats.

"Are they wizards?" Harry whispered.

Snape nodded, "And witches."

"Who are they? Where are they we? Why are they wearing their robes in public? I thought you said we weren't supposed to do that?" Harry had learned to like asking questions.

"I don't know them all personally, we are in The Three Broomsticks, in Diagon Ally, this is a wizard's pub, that's why they are wearing their robes. It is also why we are wearing our robes." Snape explained.

"Oh, there are wizard's places?" Harry asked.

"There's a whole wizarding world, Mr. Potter, wizard hospitals, schools, pubs, shops, you're about to see more of it." Harry couldn't peg the professor's emotions as he told Harry this, he had a slightly faraway look in his eyes, just for a second, and he seemed to stand taller, in a different way than usual, it was as if for a moment, rather than being intimidating, he was almost bragging. Harry liked the professor this way, he decided, he wanted to ask more questions that made him look like that, and maybe, if he could become a really good wizard, he would look that way about him.

"Come along, Mr. Potter, we haven't the time to lollygag." The look was gone, and the professor was grabbing Harry's shoulder to propel him towards the door of the pub. A few people nodded at the man, and the barkeep, a toothless old man, addressed him with a short,

"Eh, can I getcher anything,"

To which he told him he hadn't the time, and dragged Harry outside into an alleyway.

"Is this Diagon ally?" Harry asked. He couldn't see anything, was he bad at being a wizard and just couldn't see the street? It looked to him just like three brick walls and the entrance to the pub.

"Not yet." Professor Snape replied, tapping a series of bricks with his wand.

Suddenly the wall rearranged itself into an archway, leading to a bustling street beyond.

"Woah!" Harry exclaimed.

Snape cracked another smile, "Woah indeed, Mr. Potter."

He stepped out into the street, which was nothing like any ally Harry had ever seen, with the younger boy just a step behind him. Harry was too enthralled with the street in front of him to notice the entrance sealing itself behind them.

The street bustled with more people in robes, colorful and black alike, but the people were not the interesting part, to Harry. What was fascinating was the shops themselves, the setups outside and the window displays. Things whizzed and buzzed and hiccupped and jumped everywhere, barrels of strange things glimmered and fizzed in front of ever shop.

"This way," Snape ordered, placing a hand between Harry's shoulder blades and guiding him down the street towards what seemed to be the least interesting of all of the shops, a bookstore.

"Can we look at that one later?" Harry asked, pointing to a shop full of whizzing and whirring silver objects.

"There's nothing you strictly need there, but I suppose it is your first visit to Diagon ally. We'll look if we have the time." Snape said.

"Cool!" Harry said.

"Keep walking."

The two walked into the bookstore and did their shopping, but Harry wasn't too interested in the process, he was ensured by Snape that if the professor had anything to say about it, Harry would be much more interested in the books later.

The trip was quick, with Snape picking a few things, Harry wasn't quite sure why the man had even brought him along until their next stop.

Robes weren't much more interesting to Harry than books. However the magical tape measure was pretty neat, and the woman, Madam Malkin, was one of the nicest people Harry had met so far. She talked to him the whole while she was fitting him, asking him how old he was, and then gave him a piece of candy for being so still throughout the process, even though he had been a bit fidgety, and had been reprimanded twice for it by Snape.

The next couple of stops were equally boring, and by now Harry wasn't even really enjoying looking around the ally. It was a little while later that they went on the first interesting trip of the day, the wand shop.

"Most children your age do not receive wands," Explained Snape, outside of the wand shops. "You are to keep quiet and polite, and respond only when spoken to while we are inside, because I will have explain these circumstances to the wand maker."

Harry nodded, the rules were perfectly familiar to him, they were the rules all the time in the Dursley house.

"Come on then." Snape gestured for him to come inside.

Harry followed behind him into the dimly lit shop. The shop was cramped, shelves lined the walls and then seemed to fill every inch of available space, going up to the ceiling. Harry looked around the store with squinted eyes, it was somehow not quite as exciting as a wand shop ought to be, but then again, he supposed it might just be too dark to see the cool stuff.

A rustling sound from across the silent shop made Harry jump slightly, but not nearly so much as when an old man seemed to pop out of the darkness, so silently and suddenly that Harry thought perhaps he had apperated there.

"Well, well, well, what have we here," The man asked, examining Harry up and down in a way that made him fidget uncomfortably.

"I knew I would be seeing you, but I thought it would be a few years yet." The man added.

When Harry did not appear to be willing to respond, the silver haired man straightened up, looking up at Snape instead.

"I am surprised, Severus, that professor Dumbledore would have sent you on such an errand," The piercing look the old man gave Snape was similar to the one the older man had given Harry; Harry wondered if it was a common wizard thing.

"Mr. Ollivander," Snape greeted the man as if he had not spoken, "I have a note with the special permissions, it explains the circumstances." Snape pulled an envelope from within his robe, accompanied by a single red feather that looked like something Aunt Petunia may have in one of her nicest church hats.

"Ah," Mr. Ollivander said, opening the note. "Well, I'm not one to argue with the Wizangamot." He said slowly, scanning the letter. "Let's get the boy's measurements then."

Harry found himself once again being measured, as he had been in the robe shop, though this measuring tape took far more liberties with the measuring, getting the inches from one eye to the next, and the distance from his belly button to the center of his chest.

"Right, right, that's quite enough."

Harry thought that the man was yelling at him, until the tape measure stopped and floated forlornly back to its drawer.

Ollivander began snatching boxes from shelves, and set six or seven down on the counter, before opening one and handing the wand inside to Harry. He stared at it for a few seconds, not quite sure what to do with the stick of wood. But he had seen Professor Snape use his a few times, so he decided to try making it do something. He waved and jabbed it in a way that he had seen the older man do a few times, the box the wand had come out of lit on fire.

"No, no, definitely not!" Ollivander snatched back the wand, and quickly extinguished the fire with his own.

"Try this one. Just wave," The silver haired man said, handing Harry another wand. He waved it, but nothing happened.

"Hmm, no," The man snatched up the wand.

Again and again he handed Harry wands, until the small boy was sure he would use every one and none of them would work. What if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon really HAD squashed the magic out of him?

"Hmm, I wonder," Ollivander said, finally. He pulled a box from the front window, and handed the wand inside to Harry.

Harry barely even glanced at it before waving it, at first, nothing happened, but as Harry was arching back down from the wave the wand began to let off red sparks, and then, it exploded in a shower of splinters.

Harry tried to throw it away from himself, but still managed to get burned on his arms, he yelped in pain and surprise as the wand shattered. His glasses were the only thing that saved him from losing an eye to the showers of wood.

"No! Oh no, no, no ,no!" Ollivander screeched. "I should've known better." He said, waving his wand about furiously, cleaning up the wand and putting out the fire.

Professor Snape was at Harry's side in an instant, his wand pointed at the burns, murmuring a few spells. Harry felt the burning ease, and then the pain stopped almost entirely, reduced to a gentle throbbing.

"What the hell was that?" Snape asked Ollivander.

"That wand, was the brother to a very important wand." Ollivander said, slowly, "A wand that had a large impact on this boy's life," He added

A look of dawning comprehension passed across Snape's face for a moment, before it settled back into its usual irritated state.

"And you thought it was a good idea to have the boy try this wand?" Snape demanded, brow's furrowed, one hand gripping Harry's shoulder tightly.

"I merely thought, since we were having so little success…" The man trailed off. "It is perhaps that he is simply too young for a wand."

"Or perhaps you made a hideous misjudgment on which wand to give him." Snape said through clenched teeth.

"Please, do calm down, Severus, you remember from your own wand that this is not always a fool proof process."

Snape huffed and nodded.

"Right, let us try a few more then." Ollivander said.

It was many wands later that even Ollivander seemed to be getting a bit frustrated, at first he had become more and more excited with each wand he handed Harry, but after going through nearly every type of wood, and having Harry wreck three more wands, ("I was sure Acacia would suit you") Ollivander seemed completely flummoxed.

Finally after Harry had destroyed his fourth wand, Ollivander paused, told them to wait where they were and dashed out of the room.

"Professor… do you think he's giving up?" Harry asked softly. "Am I a bad wizard?"

Severus shook his head, "I have never heard of Mr. Ollivander giving up. Many great wizards take a long time to get settled with a wand." Snape tried not to allow his own frustration to show on his face, this was longer than he had ever heard of it taking to have anyone matched with a wand, his own had taken half an hour, and he had thought THAT was long, but it had been nearly two hours now!

Ollivander came back out of the back room a few moment later, a little silver haired boy in tow. He looked to be about Harry's age, and could have been Ollivander as a child, with wide silver eyes, silvery hair, and long, spidery fingers.

"This," Ollivander gestured at the child, "Is my apprentice Wexley. I felt that perhaps this situation needed a different touch."

Snape and Harry both stared with mild disbelief at the "apprentice" Snape because he knew apprenticeships usually did not occur so young, and Harry because he wondered if _he_ would be expected to become an apprentice of some sort.

"Hello," The boy said, waving shyly at them. "I've uh, never done this before…" He said nervously.

"You've seen me enough times, go on then, let's see if you've remembered your lessons." Ollivander instructed.

The boy took the magical measuring tape from the drawer, and proceeded to let it measure Harry the same way it had two hours ago. Both Harry and Snape stared at the boy in some amount of fascination. Snape wanted to object that surely the boy wasn't old enough to be doing this, but really, it couldn't end much more catastrophically than when Ollivander himself was choosing.

The silver haired boy took a minute to consider Harry, "How old are you?" He asked.

"Five." Harry replied.

The boy nodded, his little face set into a solemn frown.

"Well," The boy looked thoughtful for a minute. "Let's try this."

He handed Harry a couple of wands, which thankfully didn't do much, then paused again.

"Okay, this one's my favorite." He said, handing Harry another wand. "It's really easy to use."

Harry waved the wand hesitantly, and a shower of silver sparks spewed from it.

"Eureka!" Ollivander cried. "Of course, why didn't I think of it before! Of course a child this age is of course still developing, it's no wonder they didn't work, the woods were too developed and set in their ways!" The words sounded like nonsense to everyone but the old man, but none of them were really paying him much mind.

Snape was simply happy to have found a wand and to not have to stand in the shop any longer, Wexley was looking pleased with himself, and Harry was relieved that he was indeed a wizard after all.

"Sycamore, twelve and a quarter inches, bendy, Unicorn tail hair. Bring him back when he's a bit older, say nine or ten, we'll set him up with something once his personality develops more." Ollivander exclaimed excitedly. "That'll be seven gallions." He added.

Snape quickly pulled the money out of his pouch and handed it to the man, ushering Harry out the door.

"Well," He said, as they entered the now dark streets. "We haven't time to look around anymore today, let's get you home."

Harry didn't want to go, but he knew that it was late. So he went without comment back into the pub, back through the fire, back into the backyard of the Dursley's, and finally, back into his cupboard for the night. He slept with his new wand under his pillow, allowing the firm wood to be a reminder that he really was a wizard, just like his parents.

A/N 2: I know Wexley's entrance is a little hastey, and I really hate teh way the wand picking went, but I don't feel like writing it a third time because I can't quite figure out how to fix it, suggestions would be awesome! :)


	4. Chapter 4:Magic is Boring

A/N I have gotten two reviews so far which have pointed out flaws in my writing, a big thanks to SpencerReid for pointing out the implausibility of Harry getting a wand, I will be explaining in this chapter why it is plausible in this version of the universe. Also, thanks to Deby Magid, for pointing out that Snape calls Harry "Mr. Potter" in public a few times, this wasn't intentional, I just spaced on the fact that he ought to be calling him something else, or nothing at all.

Also, I know this took longer than forever to get out… I forgot about it completely.

Please keep the reviews coming folks, I love to hear feedback!

Harry awoke the next morning and finished his chores as quickly as he could, then found himself standing around waiting for Professor Snape, as he had finished so early. The professor had told him not to use the wand without him around, but Harry couldn't help but lock himself in his cupboard and twitch the wand about a bit, to see if he could get it to do something.

About an hour of playing with the wand yielded Harry nothing more than a small shower of silver sparks, the same thing that it had done when he'd first waved it. When he heard the doorbell he immediately tucked the wand into the waistband of his pants, so that the professor wouldn't know he had been trying to do magic without him.

"Boy, are you ready?" Aunt Petunia called.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia!" Harry called, hustling out of his cupboard.

"Are you ready?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded.

"Do you have your wand?" The professor asked.

"Yes sir."

"Good, come on then."

The two headed out the back, and apperated to the same little room as always.

"Today, I'll be teaching you your first bit of magic, Mr. Potter." Severus said.

Harry broke into a huge grin, "I get to use my wand? Learn a spell?" He asked, excitedly.

"No." Said Professor Snape. "Not yet. Later today. You first need to learn discipline, and potions are much more suited for that."

"Discipline?" Harry said, with a gulp. In his world, discipline meant spending days in his cupboard.

"Yes, self-discipline."

"Self-discipline? I have to lock myself in the cupboard?" Harry asked.

"What? Lock yourself in a cupboard? Why would you do that? What does that have to do with self-discipline, Potter?"

"Well… that's how Uncle Vernon disciplines me." Harry said.

Professor Snape's face became angry, and Harry shrank back slightly. Snape stopped short of his usual explosion.

"It is not that sort of discipline, Mr. Potter." Snape said. "I am talking about self-control and carefulness."

"Oh." Harry said. "Okay." He added.

Professor Snape pulled a book out of one of the shelves surrounding the room. Harry was amazed when the shelf slid aside, revealing a small hallway, carpeted in brown, dilapidated carpet. He led the way through the hallway, gesturing for Harry to follow him.

The hallway turned into a dark stairwell, and down into a cold basement. In the center of the basement were three cauldrons, one bubbling with a clear liquid, which resembled water, the rest empty and at rest. The professor pulled out a little stool and gestured for Harry to sit down on it, sitting on the one beside him. He waved his own wand, and a cupboard to the left sprung open, revealing a huge collection of little bottles, containers, and bits of plant life.

"This will also be a test of your reading abilities." Snape said.

Harry perked up when he heard the word test, "A test?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm going to name the item, and you are going to find the label in the cupboard that says that name." Snape said.

Harry nodded vigorously, eager to pass another test.

"Alright," The professor opened a book sitting on the little table beside the cauldron. "We are making this potion, sound it out." He ordered, pointing to the title.

"B-bo-ill cu-ree," Harry tried.

"Remember o and I makes 'oi',"Professor Snape said. "And the e is silent."

"Boi-l cur."

"Long u."

"Boil cure." Harry finally said.

"Correct. Now, go to the cabinet, and when I say an ingredient, fetch it and put it on the table."

Harry nodded and hastened to the cabinet to pull out the ingredients.

"Dried nettles," Snape paused as Harry read the bottles, "Crushed snake fangs, stewed horned slugs, and porcupine quills."

Harry grabbed each of the ingredients; Snape checked each bottle to insure that Harry had grabbed the correct ones.

"Well, it looks as if you have managed to get them all correct. Now, you are going to carefully read the instructions before we begin. Every time you make a potion you will begin this way, and then you will read the first step yet again before you begin, and then one more time as you begin. I will fill in the words you don't know, and as you create, I will assist you in the reading. Understood?"

Harry nodded vigorously, and began to sound out the instructions aloud.

The potion came out well, at the end. Although Snape had to step in several times when Harry tried not to re-read a step, and forced him to re-read it ("This will become habit"). Eventually the potion came out, a delicate pinkish color, and the Professor even smiled a bit as he taught Harry how to properly bottle it.

"You take after your mother." He said. "She was a very gifted potion maker."

Harry glowed for a long time after that compliment, even while he was cleaning the cauldron and putting the ingredients away.

After the potion brewing, which Harry didn't really see having much to do with magic, Harry was eager to try to do some real magic, and use his wand. His excitement was lessened slightly when Professor Snape explained that there was a lot of learning involved before he got to cast an actual spell.

Harry found himself sitting for around two hours as the Professor explained magical theory, and what the different kinds of magic were, before he finally told him that he was going to teach him his first spell. Snape taught him the motion first, a sort of jabbing motion, then the incantation, which he had explained was the word part of a spell.

He then handed him a match, and told him that he would be working to turn it into a needle. Harry was disappointed not to be doing anything more exciting, like turning people into frogs, but Snape explained that he had to begin with the basics, and work his way up.

Harry spent the rest of the day leaned over the matchstick, even after the Professor told him that he could stop, he wanted to continue. He ended up staying at the task until finally the older man told him he had to go home for the night. Harry had only managed to make the matchstick turn a shade of gray, and was extremely disappointed that he had to go.

It took Harry three days to master the spell, and he was practically glowing for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, it was the last time he could spend an entire day on a spell, as he was starting school the next day.

It didn't matter though, as Snape assured him, he would be coming after school from now on to do his homework and his magic lessons. So Harry started school feeling happy and accomplished, and fairly well on level with the rest of the class. He could tell that this was going to be the best year of his young life.


End file.
